


Better Than Violence

by missyfixit



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fingerfucking, Fluids, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sex, all that good stuff.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missyfixit/pseuds/missyfixit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crosshairs shows Drift that he has other ways of relaxing that don't involve shooting things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Violence

**Author's Note:**

> Little something I whipped up for [mnemosurgery](http://trepan.co.vu) over on tumblr <3

"Look, all m'sayin' is that no one can be completely relaxed by just meditatin', or whatever, alone. Ya gotta find other outlets." Crosshairs took a split second to turn and fire an almost blind shot at one of the makeshift targets behind him. The marked boulder seemed to explode from the inside, small rocks and dust radiating around where the boulder now ceased to be.

"Like what, Crosshairs? Violence? Aside of when it is a necessity, I don't believe fighting is the answer."

The paratrooper rolled his optics and aimed for another boulder who shared the same fate as the first.

"Don't get started on that zen an' pacifist shit again." He pulled up his goggles and snorted. "But no, I'm not talkin' 'bout 'violence'." He made quotations with his digits for emphasis.

Drift looked over the Corvette and shook his helm, crossing his arms. “Well, just what exactly are you trying to imply, Crosshairs?” 

The mentioned mech dusted off his coat and neared the samurai, a goofy grin spread over his faceplates. “Y'really wanna know what I'm thinkin' about, cherry blossom?” 

His optics darted between the Bugatti and a wall that was a couple meters away. He slowly walked around Drift and in that direction, actually getting the other mech to follow. He turned around and pressed his backstruts against the rocky surface and arched back against it. “I think y'know damn well what I'm thinkin' about.”

Drift rolled his optics and shook his helm, standing right in front of the Corvette. “Are you trying to mock me once again, Crosshairs? You do realize that I cannot read minds....nor would I want to read yours.”

“Ooh, harsh.” Crosshairs chuckled before reaching out and grabbing Drift by the shoulder armor, pulling him back and spinning around to shove him against the wall. Drift expressed his disdain with a growl and what appeared to be a pout. Well, at least to Crosshairs it seemed that way. 

“What was that for? That was completely unnecessary!” Drift tried to push himself away from the wall, but was only held back as Crosshairs pushed himself up against him, sandwiching the samurai between himself and the wall. “Crosshairs...”

“Yes~?” The paratrooper grinned deviously and rolled his hips against Drift's.  
“What are you doing?” 

“Helpin' ya relax, that's what.” Crosshairs put his servos on Drift's waist, and, after only a brief moment of protest, slipped one down in between his legs, rubbing gently at his panel. 

“I-I don't really think this is relaxing, Crosshairs...” Drift let out a soft gasp at the touch, a shiver running up his backstruts. 

“Of course it's relaxin'. What else would it be?”

Drift vented deeply before sliding his own servo down in between the Corvette's legs, running a pair of digits up the inside of his thigh. He finally relinquished a smirk of his own. “Invigorating~”

That word alone gave Crosshairs the go-ahead to continue, tilting his helm and quickly, roughly, kissing the mech he had pinned to the wall. He rubbed more roughly now at Drift's panel, trying to coax it open before he felt a servo grab hold of his wrist. 

“Allow me.” Drift smiled as he rolled his hips once, panel retracting back before he canted his hips forward. Crosshairs wasted no time at all brushing his digits over the already slick folds of Drift's valve. That earned the paratrooper a whine and a buck of his hips. 

“Relax...I ain't gonna rush this...” Crosshairs gently eased two digits into Drift's valve, relishing the lubricant that gushed around his fingers. “It's not a good idea t'let yourself go this long, y'know...” he wriggled his digits up as far as he could get them, barely brushing at an overly-sensitive cluster of nodes. He had to hold back a chuckle as Drift bucked wildly under his touch. 

“It's not like–ah!–I had someone to do this with...” The samurai felt his valve clench hard around those invading digits, a breathy moan escaping his vocalizer. He wanted more. He needed more...but he was worried that Crosshairs would actually leave him hanging. He wouldn't....would he?

“Y'got hands for a reason, sweetheart. Use 'em.” 

Crosshairs thrust his digits up roughly once more before retreating, sliding them out slowly and wiggling them gently as he did so. He slid his slicked digits over Drift's spike housing. No words were needed as he got what he wanted, Drift's spike pressurizing quite rapidly as Crosshairs dropped to his knees. 

Drift looked down, offering a look that indicated he was confused. He huffed quietly, looking away for a moment before he felt something warm and wet over the head of his spike, the sensation forcing him to grab hold of the wall behind him. He looked down to see Crosshairs looking right back up at him, the Corvette's optics dimmed with lust as he bobbed his helm forward, taking more of that spike into his mouth. 

Crosshairs hummed quietly, watching as the other threw his helm back, knocking it against the wall. He couldn't help but chuckle around the spike, the display of Drift arching and writhing starting to get him really hot under his plating. Crosshairs continued to suck, alternating between gentle and rough, as he opened his own panel and released his spike, gripping it tightly in his free servo. 

Drift's servos found their way to the back of the green mech's helm, earning him a scrape of dentae along the underside of his spike. Crosshairs found the need to relax his throat tubing as Drift pulled his helm closer, forcing more of his spike down the paratrooper's intake. Crosshairs still managed to look up at him with dimmed optics, as if he were challenging him to do more. Drift only responded by shaking his helm as a hard shiver coursed through his frame. 

“No...stand up, please...” Drift could barely form the words as his entire frame continued to feel as if it were on fire. He pulled his hips back, Crosshairs cooperating as well by letting go of the samurai's spike with a wet pop, the Corvette still stroking his own. 

Crosshairs slowly pushed himself up to his feet and smirked. “Gettin' needy, eh?”

Another nod and a whine answered his question, prompting him to grab hold of one of the Bugatti's legs, hiking it up around his waist. Crosshairs growled as he dipped his servo down between them, helping to position his spike against Drift's valve, smearing the pre that was now dribbling down his length. 

With one desperate, hasty thrust, Crosshairs managed to bury himself completely inside of Drift, both mechs crying out in a sort of wanton harmony. Drift almost immediately clamped down around his lover's spike, as if he was trying to keep him there for a moment. Crosshairs leaned forward and pressed his forehelm to Drift's, goggles bumping against the crests of the samurai's helmet. 

A couple moments of silence fell between them before Drift cleared his vocals, causing the paratrooper to pout. “Yeah, yeah. Just tryin' t'enjoy the moment, y'know.” 

With a quiet huff, Crosshairs pulled his hips back and thrust hard up into the other, pulling Drift's leg up higher to get in at a better angle. Drift's servos scrambled at Crosshairs' shoulders, trying to hold on as the Corvette began pounding up into him relentlessly. The Bugatti pulled up his other leg, wrapping it around Crosshairs' waist to lock him in place. 

Their hips rolled together, fluids running down both mechs' thighs as Crosshairs continued to thrust as hard as he could into Drift. Both mechs continued to cry out with each movement, Crosshairs throwing his helm back as he felt those calipers start to clench around his spike.

The paratrooper brought a servo up to Drift's face, brushing his thumb over the seams of his faceplate. “I wanna hear ya scream when y'overload, yeah?” Crosshairs smirked and gave a particularly rough thrust up into the samurai. 

Drift already felt close to his own overload, arms and legs wrapped around the lither mech, feeling full each time Crosshairs buried himself back inside of his valve. He needed to overload, just as he needed the other to overload. Being close like this wasn't only invigorating, but it was driving him crazy. 

“C-Crosshairs...please–ngh!” Another rough thrust, slamming into him hard. “Not much longer...” 

Drift was right; a few more rolls of both mechs' hips had them crying out in a mutual overload, screaming each others' names until vocalizers shorted out. Drift's valve clenched tightly as the Corvette's spike released a load of hot transfluid, causing the blue mech to now feel completely full, lubricant and transfluid seeping out between the folds of his valve and girth of the paratrooper's spike. 

Crosshairs' legs buckled beneath him, collapsing down to his knees as he pulled Drift forward, to not let him scrape his armor (any more than he already had) should he slide down the wall. The Corvette collapsed backwards and laughed, feeling the blue mech fall on top of him. 

“You're heavy as y'look, cherry blossom.” Crosshairs nudged Drift, who sat up with a heavy sigh, still trying to get himself together. 

“And you talk too much.” Drift smirked before leaning back down, grabbing hold of Crosshairs' collar to pull him into a heated kiss.


End file.
